


Mithril

by foxymoley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Soft!Dean, The Lord of the Rings References, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22127482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley
Summary: Dean makes an interesting discovery in a bunker storeroom so he and Sam perform some experiments.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Mithril

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by @foxy on the Profound Bond Discord Server for the Birthday Scavenger hunt!

"Saaaam!" Dean's cry echoed through the bunker. "Saaammmmaaaay!" 

The first shout had sounded serious, the second not so much. Sam slowed down from his panicked pace and, with an eye roll, meandered to the store rooms that his brother had been poking around in. He picked his way through the boxes littered around, dodging the various artifacts Dean had left carelessly around, to find him sitting on the floor, armpit deep in an oaken chest. 

"You rang?" Sam intoned, eyebrow raised and lips pursed. Dean snorted. 

"Yeah, Lurch, I did. Look at this!" He held up a tabard, dark grey with dirt and shook it at Sam. The dust billowed and he waved it away. 

"What is it?" 

Dean was bouncing on the balls of his feet and pointed to the ledger lying propped open on a box nearby. "It's armor!" Sam frowned and proceeded to read the faded entry. 

'Body armor, woven in silvery thread, properties unknown. Found in Avalon. Retrieved by J.R.R.T. 12/07/1924. (B'ham BMoL Chapter.)' Sam's head shot up and he stared between Dean and the shirt. Dean just nodded, grinning, eyes wide. 

At the revelation of the newest known Man of Letters, Sam gaped and whispered in awe- "That must be…Mithril." He reached a hand out to stroke the dusty metal and a tingle ran up his arm. Not magical in nature, just excitement as this relic was, undoubtedly, their most meaningful find. Sam had very fond memories of Dean reading aloud from the Lord of the Rings as they traveled to and fro, transforming the countless hours into tales of adventure. "Do you think it works? I mean, is it real?" 

Dean looked pained for a second. "Only one way to find out…" He grabbed the rag he had been using to wipe off labels and the like, and smoothed it gently across the breast of the shirt. The grime came away easily, seemingly repelled by the metal itself. Just needing a little brush to get it gleaming, uncommonly bright in the low light of the storeroom. Dean grinned at Sam, a shimmer now reflecting off his excited face, and led the way to the shooting range, several floors down. 

Once Sam had hung the shirt, and some carbon paper over a target on the shooting range, he placed it as far as possible from Dean, who was loading and arranging an array of projectile weapons in the booth. 

"Okay, stand back. First up. Small crossbow. Fired from fifty feet." Dean shot a perfect bullseye, the small dart bouncing off, and Sam checked the paper. The shirt had absorbed the impact totally. Wouldn't even bruise. He looked at Dean excitedly. 

"What's next?" 

Large crossbow. The shaft of the bolt shattered on impact, the metal tip glancing off and embedding itself into the ceiling over their heads. Dean and Sam exchanged worried looks. 

"Goggles?" 

Dean nodded. "Goggles." 

Suited up, in the now sorry looking and very bulky, kevlar vests, they skipped straight to higher calibers. Dean's favourite .9mm Colt glanced off, showering the floor with concrete as it drove itself deep into the wall. 

"Looks like it not only absorbs the impact energy but, sort of, sends it back into the thing."

Dean's face lit up. "Like vibranium?" 

"Yeah, like that…" Sam waved a hand at his (not-so-secret nerd) brother. 

They took turns shooting. The target getting closer, the weapons more powerful. They skipped the demon blade, worried that it might be rendered useless by the magical fabric, and left the angel blade for last. 

"Babe." Dean closed his eyes to call Cas. "Can we borrow a spare blade, please? We found something." His phone chimed immediately and he shut his eyes again hurriedly. "Sorry, nothing dangerous! Pretty cool though. We're in the range. Come when you can." He peeled one eye open and Sam pretended to be busy, looking anywhere but at his brother. "Love you, Cas." 

  
  


Sam put another fresh sheet of carbon paper behind the shirt, and hung the old one up next to the others. The closer the target had gotten, the darker the inky 'bruises' had been but still, nothing that looked like it would cause any lasting damage. This discovery would certainly change their hunting for the better and he had been diligently cataloging each result in the MoL database. 

Cas turned up a little while later, carrying three angel blades and Dean hurried forward to take them, seemingly worried Cas was gonna trip in the last few feet of his journey and impale himself. Sam rolled his eyes at his own mother hen, secretly thankful that all that concern was finally split between two people. 

Dean stepped aside, waving his hand grandly at the mithril and Cas' eyes widened. He strode forward, hand out—much as Sam had done himself—to run a hand reverently down the sleeve. Cas held his other hand out and Dean carefully placed an Angel blade in it. He held the sleeve in one palm and gently dragged the blade over it. Besides some sparks, nothing happened. The fabric remained intact and Cas attempted to pierce it with the pointed tip. Still nothing. Even with his full force, the blade merely glanced off the silver. 

Dean grinned. "That settles it then."

"Um, settles what?" Sam asked, confused. 

"Who gets to wear it. It's Cas'. It's the only thing we've seen that will stop an angel blade. Duh."

Sam shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't believe it. Dean was suggesting that their most powerful asset in combat be given to the only virtually indestructible one of them. He looked to Cas for confirmation of how ridiculous an idea it was, only to find the angel locked in a staring match with Dean, fondness painted over his face. 

"Jesus Christ." They drifted closer in silence, fingers interlinked. Clearly communicating without words. Sam took this as his cue to leave, just as the two men collided, still doing their best to make up for lost time. 


End file.
